


Stay with me

by scifirevolutions



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock implication, M/M, Mystrade fluff, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2285229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifirevolutions/pseuds/scifirevolutions





	1. Chapter 1

Mycroft pulled out the last sheet from beneath the file. All that was left to do was sign and the five last years he had spent building his career would soon be assured with this long term contract. Next semester, he would attend oxford university for three months before completing an exchange program with cambridge after which he had some big plans involving government meetings and moderate blackmailing.

 

Mycroft glanced up at the mantel clock resting perfectly on his smooth oak desk. His parents were far from rich, but being a social relation genius in a school full of half-wits had it's benefits. Most would consider this dishonest and shameful, but why should he not apply the same techniques used by those permitted to run the country. Anyways, it was 11pm and Mycroft had paperwork to deal with in the morning. Not to mention an afternoon of tutoring some juvenile delinquent as part of community service. Not that there weren't any other more suitable options; his mother had insisted he take this kid on. Rambling on about knowing his parents in high school. One thing he wouldn’t have to deal with after he graduated; Family.

 

He cleared up the neat piles on his desk, hastily showered and changed before slipping into bed. He would have fallen asleep a lot faster if it wasn't for Sherlock's constant tiptoeing up and down the hall. He was probably stealing another of Dad's crime novels which Mom had insisted be kept out of his reach (as if). Something about not wanting to raise a psychopathic serial killer.

 

***

 

Greg stumbled into bed. His head was pounding and he felt liquid floating up and down his body. Was he already getting a hangover? Oh well, at least he would be fine for tomorrow's math test. Or would he? Greg was never any good when it came to biology... or any educational subject otherwise. Actually, due to his sudden drop in grades, Greg would be seeing an additional tutor starting tomorrow afternoon.

 

He turned over on his side prying that his stomach get a grip. Another trip to the bathroom meant one more argument his mother had to hold against him in the morning.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft glanced over at the boy sitting next to him on the school bench. His jeans were torn and his leather jacket seemed to be stained with small patches of blood. Surely the cause of a fight... last night. And drunk, that was obvious... but the absence of signs of a headache meant he must have gotten drunk earlier in the evening and also went to bed moderately early judging by the not-so-dark area around his eyes. But why would a teen get themselves drunk-... what, why?- Was he really analyzing this insignificant being, he had more important issues to think about. It was then that Mycroft felt his heart race, his stomach tighten and his hands start to shake... and his dic- No! How could this be happening? Ironically, he had spent his life avoiding sexuality with woman. Well changes had to be made there: Maybe a radar on both genders, just to make sure. Right, now he must remain composed. Any lack of self control and his entire life's plan would break apart. _Caring is not an advantage, caring is not an advantage, caring is NOT an advantage..._

 

Greg's eyes landed on the younger boy to his right. Countering his physical body, this kid looked more like a man, what with the three piece suit... _and is that a tie?_ Greg knew right away who he must be. He had heard of him, or more famously his younger brother, Sherley or something, who had stolen all the dissecting frogs from the science lab last year. Greg had heard that his older brother (the posh one) was quiet different, but regardless of their physical resemblance, you wouldn't even think them related. The man-like boy sat, back as straight as a ruler, eyes fixed ahead, hands resting on his perfectly crossed legs. And his mouth... Greg looked down to find something in his pants swelling. Damn! He quickly grabbed his rucksack and shoved it over his lap. How could this be happening?... again. He wasn't gay! There was only that one guy on the telly years ago and that wasn't really love, it was admiration. For God's sake he was in a relationship. What would Liza say if he came out gay now. Greg buried his blushing face into the soft padding of the bag and felt a wave of relief when the suited boy was finally called to enter the principal's office. As soon as the door closed behind him, Greg dropped his bag to the floor, resting his back against the cold brick wall. But when he glanced up ahead, the little girl on the opposite bench was grinning, her eyes fixed down at his crotch. _Fu*-!_

 

Mycroft had rehearsed his lines, nothing was left to chance.

"So, you are-"

"yes, turning 16 next week."

"Right, ok... are you sure you want to graduate so soon, high school is a valuable experience-"

"Yes, I've also my CV, if the module outline isn't enough."

"Eh, no that's quiet alright... well, all that's left is a bit of signing and you're set to go."

Diverting attention was not one of Mycroft's most valued skills, but it nevertheless had it's utilities. 5 mins later, Mycroft walked out of the office, a soon to be graduate at 16 years old (it would have been at 14, but the rules didn't permit it).

 

As soon as he stepped out, the scruffy-looking boy dashed in, grazing Mycroft's shoulder as he passed by. He mumbled a incoherent "sorry" before he slammed the door shut behind him. On the bench, an eighth grader eagerly sat where Mycroft had been earlier. It didn't take him long to figure out what had happened, and he walked away unaware that he had just made his first wrong deduction.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Greg ran across the second floor hallway, prying no teacher was lurking around the corner. He was already 5 mins late and he had promised Mom he would give a good first impression. But it wasn't his fault. His gym teacher decided to hold him back after class for a two hour lecture on concentrating when catching the ball and something about team playing. God. I mean, it's just a game! Of course Greg would never say that to his gym teacher... not again. As Greg approached class A14, he noticed a familiar figure leaning next to the door.

 

***

 

Mycroft tapped his foot as he waited. 5 mins late, I mean really, some people have no respect. It was always the same: Mycroft would start to get agitated after seconds of tardiness, yet would wait up to hours, and when the significant did show up, he would politely insist it not a problem. However if this boy arrives late next week, he would refuse to tutor him. He wasn't going to waste any more time than necessary on some half-wit delinquent. Finally a short boy's outline appeared into sight. 6 mins late, well it could have been worse. Mycroft spoke too soon. The boy rushing towards him was wearing ripped jeans and a blood stained jacket. Tutoring this boy would be an unwise move, yet...

 

"Hi, I'm sorry I'm late," the boy started, "I'm Greg. You're my tutor, aren't you? We met this morning, well not really met." _Shut up, Greg, you're embarrassing yourself._

"Um, yes... Mycroft" Mycroft said extending a hand.

Greg took his hand, it was firm, but surprisingly gentle. Greg found Mycroft's handshake eloquently firm. There was a dominant side to this young man that was quiet appealing.

"From what I gather you're struggling in the sciences?" Mycroft asked, leading Greg into the class and to a small table at the center.

"Um, all subjects really, expect math. Math is... ok."

Mycroft cocked an eyebrow, math was one of his favorite subjects. This tutoring might not prove to be so boring after all.

 

As they started working, Mycroft soon came to realize that apart from being a thousand times slower, Greg had a similar thought process to his. What was interesting however, was Greg somehow seemed intrigued about the subjects he grasped the least and easily got bored when covering what he excelled in.

 

They soon had finished biology and physics and were moving onto chemistry when Greg's phone rang. After a bickering conversation, Greg hung up.

"I'm sorry, I have to go, Mum wants me to babysit my little sister."

"I gathered." Mycroft replied.

"How- never mind. Next week, then? That is if you still- I mean I know my Mum can be quite insistent, but don't feel obliged-"

"Next week sounds fine."

"Good... um, you taking the underground, if you're going the same way-"

"I usually take a taxi."

"Oh, ok... well bye... "

"À la prochaine."

Greg left pondering on how Mycroft knew he had french relatives on his mother's side.

 


	4. Chapter 4

It was friday and that afternoon at a quarter to four, Greg stood patiently before room A14. Mycroft arrived with a brisk stride, giving Greg a pleasant smile as he approached.

"You're early."

"I'm making up for last week."

"15 minutes?"

"And future latenesses... not that I'm planning on being late."

Mycroft just laughed, a cross between a giggle and a chuckle; It was beautiful.

"Well, we'd better continue with chemistry, it won't take long if you just concentrate."

"But it's so boring."

Mycroft tried to suppress a smile; somehow he found Greg's attitude towards work adorably cute.

 

After they had gone through Greg's chemistry lessons, they touched onto math. It was like Greg had said last week, his math was... ok. He understood the basics, but clearly lacked practice, which proved he hadn't been doing his homework exercises.

 

"For monday you need to complete these practice sheets and review chapter 4 which was causing you difficulty."

Greg looked over the questions. "What if I get stuck or something?"

Mycroft stared over at Greg.

"I mean" Greg continued, "It's just Mum grounded me yesterday for... well... the usual, so I'll be studying all day tomorrow, if you want to come over, cause if I get blocked or something... " The words seemed to spill out of Greg. His face started turning red and his heart was suddenly beating right out of his chest. What was wrong with him? Surely Mycroft had better things to do than hang around a loser who couldn't even form a proper sentence. Mycroft merely nodded maintaining his usual calm state, but Greg felt a kind of warmth fill his eyes.

"If you'd like, And It would also give me an excuse not to attend my piano lesson."

"Right, yeh you wouldn't have to go to piano lessons." _Why am I stupidly repeating him. Now he probably thinks you're a complete dope_.

But, Mycroft seemed to be amused by his awkward state and for the first time since meeting him, Mycroft's cheeks started blushing as he smiled. Greg on the other hand was probably looking like a tomato by now. Mycroft noticed the reddening on Greg's lips as he started to bite on them, he felt an impulse to say something, countering a simultaneous lust in watching Greg light up.

Somehow Greg's hands had found themselves gripping tightly onto Mycroft's thigh. Mycroft didn't seem to mind, instead he leaned forward and Greg mirrored him as their lips touched harmoniously. Simultaneously, both Greg and Mycroft came crashing back to earth. Mycroft pulled himself away as Greg turned down towards the papers on the table.

"I'm sorry... " Mycroft whispered.

"Let's not- I mean, it's like it never happened" Greg said.

Mycroft didn't reply, but the recollected expression on his face told Greg he would like nothing better. Even if he knew it was to be expected, this wasn't exactly what Greg had wanted. Sightly disappointed, he watched as Mycroft swiftly gathered his things and headed for the door.

"Umm... Mycroft? Is it still a yes for tomorrow?" Greg asked.

Mycroft turned around.

"Of course." He said leaving Greg entirely perplexed.

"See yeh." He called out as the thin black outline started fading into the distance.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_knock, knock, knock._

"GREG! IF YOU'RE STILL SLEEPING, I SWEAR TO GOD-"

"I'm Not!" Greg growled dragging himself from under the covers. Sleepily, he tugged on a pair of trousers and pulled over a sweater from the mess on the floor. Then, he quickly gathered some of the piles of cloths from the floor and shoved them under his bed, before rushing downstairs just in time to greet Mycroft as his mother opened the door.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Lestrade." Mycroft said before turning towards Greg with a smile.

"Hello Gregory-"

"Hi Myc. Come, my bedroom's upstairs." Greg said taking Mycroft by the hand.

 

Mycroft struggled to keep up as Greg pulled him up a large staircase, across a hall and into a small bedroom on the left. The walls of the room were blue and above, a black starry ceiling. The bed covers had pictures of the solar system and the rug on the floor depicted a western scenery. It was almost like a child's room expect for the multitude of various posters on the walls. Some were political movements, but most were naked pictures of women among the science fiction fandoms Greg was rather passionate about. Greg jumped onto his bed leaving Mycroft to awkwardly position himself at on the edge.

"What question have you reached so far?" Mycroft asked.

"What questions?"

"You have started, haven't you?"

"Oh, yeh, well they were sort of difficult, so I was waiting for you to come-"

"You just got up didn't you?"

"Sort of." Greg shrugged.

"It's ok, it won't take more than an hour and a half." Mycroft said getting up and walking over to Greg desk, "May I?" He asked pointing to Greg's scattered books and binders.

Greg nodded, pulling another chair over to the desk.

 

Half an hour later, the questions were completed and chapter 4 memorized.

"You learn fast." Mycroft said as Greg flung his pen across the table.

"Mycroft?" Greg asked stretching his arms behind Mycroft.

"Yes?"

"Do you do this often?"

"Sorry, I don't follow-"

"Tutoring. Do you have others?"

"No. Why?"

"No reason, just curious." But Mycroft's small grin, informed Greg he knew exactly what he meant. He also knew that when he leaned towards Mycroft, he wouldn't back away. This kiss lasted a lot longer than the first and when Greg drew back for air, Mycroft ran his hand over the front of his chest down around to his back. Greg rested his head on Mycroft's shoulder for couple of seconds while Mycroft kissed his neck. Neither knew what they were doing, but unlike Greg, Mycroft (for the first time in his life) was acting on impulse. And Greg felt it good to let himself be guided for a change.

 

However, it was naturally Greg who took initiative to move over onto the bed. Greg being more experienced was moving things forward and after 10 mins he had striped them both naked. Mycroft quickly got cold but the warmth coming from Greg's body sent an array of arousal rushing through his body. Greg was pumping them both with his right hand, the other gripping tightly to the bed sheets beside Mycroft's head. Mycroft leaned up kissing Greg and rolled over pinning him on his back. Taking over, Mycroft was moving his hand rapidly over Greg's cock. Pre-cum dripping down his arm.

"God Mycroft!" Greg dropped his head back letting the pleasure take over, he now very near to cumming...

But, Mycroft's hand muscles were giving in and he pulled Greg over him as lay down on the bed. Greg shifted down and started sucking on Mycroft's red-thick cock. Mycroft let out a cry as he fell back against the pillows, cum bursting into Greg's mouth. His eyes were watering, but that just added to the pleasurable sensation overtaking his body. Acting upon his arousal, Greg raised Mycroft's legs up and pushed himself up burring his face in Mycroft's chest and his cock into Mycroft's hole.

"greg?... "

Greg felt his cock near to busting as-

"stop... STOP!"

Greg pulled himself out as he came all over Mycroft's stomach. Mycroft quickly turned away from Greg.

"Are you ok? I'm sorry-"

"I'm ok, it's just I don't like it very much... It sort of hurts." Mycroft spoke softly wrapping his arms around his legs.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask." Greg hesitated, then reached out towards Mycroft wrapping himself around his back. "I think we need a safe word?" Greg added.

"... Umbrella."

"What?"

"Umbrella."

"Was that just some random pick of an objet?"

"not really, you know when you open up an umbrella-" Mycroft stopped and watched Greg's face light up as he grinned.

"You dirty bastard." He said as he buried his laughter against Mycroft's back.

"Don't you not know me by now?" Mycroft replied turning around to get a good look at Greg dying with laughter.

 

They curled up together under the blanket on their backs, their hands folded against one another. Greg told Mycroft of his parents divorce and how it lead to his father's suicide while Mycroft listened attentively, chin resting over Greg's head.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Monday was graduation day and funny enough both Mycroft and Greg would be attending the ceremony together. Greg was three years older than him, but Mycroft's maturity made the age difference in their relationship feel insignificant. However, Mycroft didn't want the whole school knowing so they thought it best to avoid each other tomorrow.

 

Mycroft was lying on his bed trying to concentrate on Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi Myc, it's Greg, are you busy?"

"No. Just reading."

"Not for school I hope."

"No, far from it."

"Good. Do you wanna come see a movie with me, X-men 2's out in cinema today. I know it's not really your thing-"

"I'd love to."

"Ok, I'll pick you up, just I don't know where you live-"

"I'll be at your place in 5 mins."

"Ok, yeh, but it's no problem-"

"Not at all, see you soon."

"Bye."

 

***

 

And it was a good thing too, Greg was far from ready. He barley had the time to put on some clean cloths and fix his hair before the door bell rang. Greg grabbed his bag and headed downstairs. Mycroft stood outside, a black cab waiting behind him. He wasn't wearing his usual three piece suit and tie, but a checkered shirt with dark blue trousers. He looked devilishly handsome.

 

"That was fast."

"I did say 5 mins."

"No tie?"

"I didn't want to make you feel out of place seeing as we are going someplace populated by the common wealth."

"I wouldn't care what you wore, but it would have looked real funny if you did walk into the theater with a three piece suit.

"Actually most of the time it's a two piece." Mycroft said swinging a long thin objet in his hand.

"Why did you bring an umbrella? I don't think it's going to rain."

"You never know."

Greg suddenly started in giggle, "I'm sorry, I'm just remembering- never mind, it's nothing."

"Also, I never said I brought it for rain."

"Mycroft, I'd never thought you were the type. They're so right about it always being the quiet ones." Greg said bursting into laughter as they got into the back seat of the cab.

 

***

 

Mycroft walked out into the fresh air, his head spinning. Greg, on the other hand was inexplicably hyperactive and ranting on about the lack of character development in the film.

"I thought we would see more of Magnito's past. through flashbacks."

"Did the first have many flashbacks?"

"At the beginning, don't you remember?... wait, you have seen X-Men 1, haven't you?"

"No, I don't really watch these kind of things."

"But it's X-Men!"

Mycroft shrugged and Greg could see that it was making him uncomfortable.

"It don't matter, I've got the DVD at home, you'll be updated in no time."

"doesn't." Mycroft corrected, but his face light up with a smile; He couldn't care less about the films (even though he found it to be relatively well constructed), yet the idea of Greg guiding him, teaching him, turned him on.

 

As Mycroft pulled out his iphone to call a cab (Greg insisted he not call in advance, so they could have the "waiting for the cab conversation"), a group of teenage boys came running towards Greg. "Yo Greg, hows it hanging?" One of them yelled jumping onto Greg's back.

"Told us you were studying tonight, you avoiding us?" Another said.

The one who had jumped onto Greg now had him in a headlock, "Yeh, why'd you lie."

"Spike, get off" Greg mumbled, easily pushing him off, throwing the other almost off balance. This Spike was half Greg's side but had the agility of a cheetah.

"Is he with you?" Said the tallest one approaching Mycroft. He looked like the leader of the lot and when he talked the rest of them would give him their fullest attention.

"Is he like you're boyfriend? Greg's gay everybody." Spike yelled jumping about.

"Yeh he is, you got a problem with that." Greg replied, much to Mycroft's disappointment. He had hoped to avoid getting themselves beaten up, but Greg seemed to have other plans in mind.

Spike was the first to answer, "Sorry, man I didn't know."

The leader however was not so understanding, "You've been lying to us this whole time. You cunt."

"No, I just-" Greg started.

"You lying git and I regarded you as a friend."

"What does it matter? You homophobic?"

"NO, I just don't like it when my friends lie to me."

"You sure that's the real reason?"

Spike now intervened, "It's no biggie Jacks. He said he was sorry."

"Shut up Spike, you're the one who's been touching him."

"SO?" Greg was now walking up to Jacks facing him up as if they were to start a fight.

"greg?" Mycroft said pointing over to the cab waiting for them. But there was no stoping him now.

"Homosexuality isn't a disease you dick!"

"You sure about that? Your friend seems to be pretty freckled.-" Before Jacks could finish, Greg had thrown the first punch knocking him to the ground.

 

An series of punches were thrown, before others stared joining resulting in a catastrophic blood bath. Most sided with their boss, but some like Spike, undecided, wavered between sides. Mycroft had lost sight of Greg, a shadow now creeping over him.

 

***

 

The two boys sat in the back not speaking to one another. Greg was badly damaged, a black eye and a cut across his face. Mycroft had a tissue over his bloody nose, the other arm limp at his side.

"I'm sorry." Greg finally said turning over to Mycroft, "Are you sure you don't want to go to emergencies, it might be broken" Greg pointed to Mycroft's limp arm.

"It's a sprain. I have the necessary aids for that at home." Mycroft replied, his eyes fixed on the scenery outside.

"I'm sorry." Greg said again.

Mycroft didn't answer.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Mycroft held his tie in place as he stepped out of the cab. His father's waist coat was a little big on him, but that hadn't stopped his mother from forcing their traditional habits on him. The sudden wave of hot air almost chocked him to death as he left the ventilated atmosphere of the cab. He was already sweating due to this mornings news the last thing he needed now was-

 

"Mycroft!" Greg was running towards him from the bus stop. "Mycroft, wait up!" Greg doubled by him, blocking his path when he stopped. "Mycroft, I know your mad at me, but just hear me out."

"Greg, stop. You did nothing wrong; well not enough to make me want to break up with you."

"You're breaking up with me?" Greg sounded sincerely hurt.

"I can't... I can't do this... this thing we have... It's not what I want."

"What? Why?... What are you not telling me?"

Mycroft inhaled profoundly before saying, "Cambridge University turned me down. They phoned this morning."

"But I thought you were already accepted?"

"I was; they're saying it's a computing error."

"They're lying, it can't be, you're probably the smartest, most accomplished one applying."

"I know... have you cheeked your Facebook page?"

"You know Facebook?"

"Greg!"

"Yeh, I'm sorry. I tried telling them not to tag you in any pictures, but on the bright side, we're famous for standing up as a homosexual couple."

"I don't want to be seen as a homosexual!... or heterosexual either. Before meeting you I had an asexual reputation, discreet, a shadow working it's way up the chain. I'm not prone to scandal, that's why... why this isn't agreeing with me."

"Myc-"

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"... I love you, I want you to know that and... I'm not saying I'll stay available forever, but just in case, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"... Thank you..."

Greg moved aside letting Mycroft pass.

"Greg?" Mycroft called out, spinning round.

Greg turned, but stayed put, afraid to come any further as if it would add to his broken heart.

"I liked... I... I don't regret anything." Mycroft stayed awhile to see the small smile on Greg's face before he turned around, and walked over to the large double doors of the school.

 

***

 

Mycroft was handed his diploma as he shook hands with the principal. A line of teachers were also waiting to shake his hand before he walked down off the stage. Greg was sitting in back row, his eyes fixed on Mycroft. They exchanged contact for a mere second which Mycroft broke as he walked down the back hall and quietly exited the gymnasium. Greg followed that thin outline through the transparent doors until he could no longer tell whether he was seeing or imagining. A sharp wet bubble dropped down, landing by his feet. But only Greg alone would ever know that.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Greg mounted the darkened staircase of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock had just moved into a new apartment and DI Lestrade was eager to see what type of toxic waste dump he had picked this time. Sherlock was a new acquaintance on his, but in the short duration of their time together the man had already moved flats (if you could call them flats) 7 times. He pushed open the door to find a large living room, a bit sombre, but far from the run down shacks he previously rented.

"Wow, this place looks great."

"Yes, it's not my usual, but it is convenient and cheep" Sherlock was standing at the center of the piece, holding a skeleton head in his hands. "The only thing it lacks is close contact with my homeless network."

"Close contact? Sherlock you were your homeless network."

"I guess I could always visit the dumpster down on-"

"Yeh, but have you found a roommate yet, surely you can't afford-"

"That is of no great matter, I hinted Stanford this morning, he'll probably have me someone by this afternoon."

"Isn't that leaving it a bit up to chance?"

"Chance? Lestrade, the universe is rarely that lazy."

"Stealing my lines, Sherlock?" A familiar voice boomed from behind.

Lestrade spun around to find a well-known suited man standing at the doorway. The man looked just as surprised to see him as Lestrade.

"Greg?"

"It's Gavin, Mycroft." Sherlock said confidently.

"No, it's Greg." Lestrade said sounding slightly pissed that in all the time they knew each other, Sherlock always got his name wrong.

"Whatever, DI Lestrade is good enough for me."

"You're DI Lestrade?" Mycroft said eyes still fixed on Greg.

"You forgot-?"

"NO, I thought- Lestrade is a common name."

"No it isn't." Sherlock intervened.

"Shut up Sherlock."

 

 

Mycroft hadn't changed a bit, still wearing a three piece suit and tie, back as stiff as ever; only he had put on a little belly fat and his hands seemed to dwell with the absence of a particular objet.

"Mycroft, what are you doing here? Are you a client?"

"You could say that." Sherlock smirked.

"Unwise, brother mine, I'm not in a good mood-"

"BROTHER?!?... So you're his... you're that famous kid from high school?"

"Greg... "

But Greg wasn't listening anymore, "That actually makes so much sense, what with the-"

"Greg!"

Greg turned around, his eyes looking at Mycroft's. Mycroft's greenish-blue surfaces were wet with clear substance.

"Greg, I'm sorry-"

"Hold on, how do you know each other?" For a consulting genius, Sherlock could sometimes be quite ignorant. But neither of the two could be bothered to give Sherlock the time of day.

"How have you been?" Greg asked first.

"Lonely" Sherlock intervened.

"Don't you have anything else to do?" Mycroft said bitterly.

"Nope." Sherlock was obviously enjoying watching his older brother struggle to converse with Greg.

"Yes, I forgot you spend your time unemployed." Mycroft commented.

Sherlock grunted and proceeded to sit, arms folded, on the large sofa-chair in the corner.

 

"And how about you Greg, are you.... seeing anyone?"

"Married!" Sherlock yelled from across the room.

"Divorced... well sorta."

"It's complicated?"

"Not anything that can't be explained over a coffee."

Mycroft grinned.

"Are you asking my brother out, Lestrade?"

"Sherlock, don't intervene when the grown ups are talking." Mycroft then turned to Greg, "Does Wednesday afternoon conflict with anything."

"No... oh, here's my phone number, it's changed since."

"I bet a number of things have."

"Are you insinuating what I think you are-"

"Oh, God, I'm not staying to listen to this." Sherlock was suddenly up and rushing for the door. "I have to see a man about a flatmate anyways."

This however caught Mycroft's attention, "Why? You haven't already spent the pocket money I give you?... Sherlock?" But Sherlock was already down the stairs and out the front door.

Mycroft turned back at Greg who was now grinning franticly. "Mycroft I need your help with something... " He suddenly gathered himself and said on a most sirius tone, "I'm in need of a tutor."

 


End file.
